Save Me
by VioletCheckers
Summary: In a chore forced upon him by Lamont, Worth runs into some trouble. Mild Gore, lotsa cussing.
1. Chore

AN: My First Hanna is Not a Boy's Name fic. Just a little bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. And to anyone who has been waiting for chapter fic updates from me, I'm in the process of working on them! I'm sorry!

This is like….Lamont/Worth fluffy friendship :/

Disclaimer: All character's belong to the amazing Tessa Stone 3

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"Shit….Fuckin' Lamont….makin' _me _go get th' fuckin' boxes…."

"That's his fuckin job….." A very angry Worth trudged through the summer rain. The sunset's warm reflection made the drops look like molten ore, heating the doctor's already fuming temper further.

"T' 'ell with that damn invoice, he ain't getting a penny now…" He turned into a darkened street. A residential area he knew very well. A baby cried from a window on some third floor. He;d heard it, but he'd never identified the source specifically. Every trashcan, clothesline, flower pot, he'd seen it all before; a baby's cry, a dog's bark, or an old bickering couple, nothing new. The sun disappeared behind the seventh floor of the building on the street he had just left. Routine. That was the only problem with being in the same place forever. Everything was routine and nothing could break it.

_Except for death…_ Worth found himself silently wishing to his only company; a cat digging through an abandoned dumpster. The fur on his coat was slicked to his neck and wrists and the thin white fabric was nearly translucent revealing the deep green of his hidden shirt. His shoes squelched, complaining about the many puddles their owner neglected to avoid. Worth had his hands dug deep into his pockets, allowing the accumulated rain to pool around his fingers.

The lamps flicked on behind him, allowing minimal light to the back alley town. He continued to walk the old cobblestone street, ignoring the odd looks he earned from the rare passerby. He grumbled a polite "Fuck you" under his breath and continued on. He walked in this manner for ten or twelve blocks. The road narrowed into a ten foot alley, a door here and there. It reminded him of the old English pictures that Hanna had shoved in his face a few months back. The little red-head had gone to a museum looking for an old legend that would have given him a lead on his newest case, but became too distracted with European history to remember the legend he was looking for in the first place. Hanna had thrown open Worth's door raving like a maniac about the old English architecture and castles and whatnot. It was rather entertaining. Worth found himself smiling at the memory. He also realized that he had no idea where he was.

The familiar path had passed and melted into a strange, unfamiliar one. A tinge of panic took him over as he struggled for an indication of where the hell he was. He back tracked a little bit until he could make out the street signs: 'Pericolo Ave' and 'Schioppo St'. That earned a confused look from the doc. "What kinda drunken bastard names a street Schioppo? Th' hell does that even mean?" Worth ranted to himself, taking his frustration out on a poor street sign.

The sounds of footsteps behind him made him turn. A figure with his head down scuffled through the rain. Worth saw an opportunity to get his bearings. Worth called out to him as he neared.

"'Ey! Could you tell me how t' get-" The figure pressed him against the side of the building with a lot more force than necessary. The man had a crazed look in his eye, obviously intoxicated.

"What dya got on ya buddy? How much?" The man rasped with heavily alcoholic breath.

"Get th- 'ell away from me ya damn drunk-" Worth made a move to push the man away when an all to familiar click resounded off of his chest. Worth's blood went cold.

"How much ya- hic, got ya sunnuvabitch?" He pressed the gun's barrel into Worth's bony ribs, earning a wince from the doc.

"I ain't got- hrn….anything." Worth said truthfully. "Unless ya want some pocket lint…."

The drunk sneered. "Then tha's too bad."

He pulled the trigger, unloading cold metal into Worth's chest.

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Short beginning, but then again, it's gonna be a short story.

~Jazz


	2. Rescue

Haha, Okay chapter two then. I was forced to update this soon on pain of death and the threat of being chewed by Vesrawr through Tumblr and dA.

HERE YA GO SEALBOY~ SPARE MY LIFE PLEASE~

And there is a six hour time jump between the first and second chapter.

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Lamont yawned, walking along Pericolo Avenue as he did every morning. Except for yesterday, of course, when he had called in sick. _I wonder if Worth ever got his boxes… _Lamont wondered, stepping in one of the few remaining puddles from the night's storm.

"Shit…" He cursed under his breath, shaking the water away. He grumbled and stared with dark eyes at his soaking pant leg and shoe.

"I really need to stop doin this to myself….No wonder I keep getting sick…." He made a note as he trudged along. 

Lamont checked his watch, hearing a cuckoo clock from a distant window. Three past midnight.

With the requirements of his job, Lamont had become somewhat nocturnal. Though he was always flexible to any hours should the need come up, his normal routine called for him waking up when many were going to sleep, and going to sleep when many were getting up. Of course, if that 'normal' schedule belonged to a teenager.

Approaching the more dangerous part of the neighborhood, Lamont forced himself to stay fully alert, especially at this ungodly hour of the morning. The next few street corners were what were going to end up giving him white hair when he turned forty. He realized that before last night, Worth had probably never gotten this deep into the city's slums. He'd gone deep, but not as deep into it as Lamont tangled with. He felt a twinge of worry, but it soon melted into pity for whoever tried to pick a fight with his friend. Worth had given Lamont a run for his money more than once in a fist fight.

There was a dark lump up ahead. Lamont struggled to make it out, and he could see slight tufts coming out of the form.

_Just a mangy stray…_ Lamont settled until he could make out what little color he could. Lamont stopped, frozen as his entire body went numb. There was blood; pooled all around the body… soaked into the white coat. Lamont's subconscious refused to pull the pieces together and to accept whose blood was painting the sidewalk. Lamont knelt by his friend, setting a hand on his shoulder. He looked to the source of the blood. Bullet wound to the chest. Lamont went cold.

"Worth….?" He jostled his hand ever so lightly. Not conscious. That was all. Lamont swallowed, moving his hand to Worth's neck, checking for any sign of a pulse. He sat there for an eternity, senses strained to pick up anything that could indicate life. Seconds passed like minutes, making Lamont shake. He pulled his hand away from Worth's neck, unable to perceive true from false because of his shaking.

He had to get Worth back to his apartment. He had loads of medical equipment there. Even though all he knew was Worth had lost about three or four liters of blood; a non lethal amount, his skin was cold and he wasn't moving. What he didn't know was where Worth had gotten shot, or whether or not he was indeed, dead.

_No…He's not dead. He can't die because of something I told him to do._ Lamont reassured, guilt growing exponentially at the mere thought. Lamont got his own coat off, and turned Worth gently, knowing he shouldn't even move someone with a life threatening injury, but he had to get Worth out of harm's way. He tied the arms of his jacket around his friend's thin torso to stop whatever bleeding still existed. There was no indication of whether the blonde was in pain or not because there was only a slack and emotionless look he wore.

Lamont managed to lug Worth onto his back and situate his friend comfortably on his back with no extra effort. Forgetting about the planned drop-offs for that day, he started on the walk back to Worth's.

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Ves: I even made a lesser cliffhanger as not to be eaten. Can I be spared?

Everyone else: Chapter two woohoo. This is just gonna be about five chapters. Not very long. ^^

-Jazz


	3. Patient

GAWDVESYOUSLAVEDRIVER (3)

So y'know, I figured I should just finish this up. It won't be very long. ^^ Also….Ves will kill me if I don't ._. GOTTALOVEPEERPRESSURE

No time interval.

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Lamont grunted as he repositioned Worth as he jogged as steadily as he could. The rain started again, but only gently, sprinkling the quiet city. A tear fell down his cheek in worry for his friend. He kept telling himself that Worth had pulled through everything else in the past and he'd be fine, given a recovery period. But in the back of his mind, he knew that Worth had never been shot and the successful recoveries after a gunshot to the chest were close to none. Lamont picked up the pace, recognizing Worth's complex a few blocks away.

He picked up his gaze, making a silent prayer that his friend would pull through. If not…Then Lamont would never forgive himself. He would not let his friend die because of a little cold he caught in the middle of the night.

Turning into Worth's familiar alleyway, Lamont leaned against the bricks to the building and took out his chain of keys. He located Worth's immediately and unlocked the door. Lamont hurried inside and shut the door behind him. Lamont's eyes raced around the room, struggling for what to do next. He hurried over to Worth's desk and swept it clear, breaking a coffee mug in the process. It laid, unnoticed in a dozen pieces at his feet. He set Worth down onto his back gently onto his desk.

He untied his jacket from Worth quickly with shaking hands and pulled Worth's bloody shirt open revealing the blonde man's pale chest smeared with dried blood. At the sight of the wound Lamont stood, taken aback. He planted his hands on the desk, digging his fingers into the wood, unbelieving that his friend had been _shot_…And that he wasn't even sure if Worth was alive or not. His mind was nowhere near processing that he was already dead, and he knew that. He couldn't trust anything unless Worth moved or made a voluntary indication that he was alive. If not…..

"S-Shit Worth……What the hell were you doing…." Lamont drew a shaking breath, eyes itching with forming tears. He tried for a pulse again but he couldn't focus. Frustrated he rushed to Worth's back room where he kept most of his medical supplies. Worth had taught Lamont some run-of-the-mill medical procedures when they were younger. He strained to remember against everything else in his racing mind. Grabbing Worth's bag he hurried back to his friend. Lamont quickly unzipped the bag and rummaged through it, setting medical wipes, gauze and medical tape aside. Lamont smiled a little at the quality his friend's bag was in. It was absolutely disgusting on the outside, but the inside was clean and organized. Everything had a pocket or a space in the bottom. Worth did care about what little patients he had. Lamont straightened, shutting the bag again, and wiped some of the blood away.

A tear fell onto Worth's chest as the black haired man's shoulders quaked lightly.

He continued to clean the scabbed blood away. The bleeding had stopped since Lamont had tied the jacket around Worth, which was good. Worth had been alive then; there was blood on the inside of said jacket. Relief flooded Lamont as if a flood gate had just been raised.

He cleaned what he could. The wound was more obvious now. An inch or two below the left side of the collar bone, slightly off of the sternum….Too high to hit the heart…and possibly just between the lungs… Lamont sighed, a teary smile spread on his face.

He looked down to the wound itself. And then it moved. No...Worth's entire chest was moving. Lamont had finally calmed himself down enough to tell.

"W-Worth…?" Lamont tried for a response. Nothing. Not even after a few seconds. Lamont proceeded to patch the hole with a thick square of gauze, taping three sides and leaving the fourth open. He remembered about the pressure complications in Biology some odd years back in high school. The last this he needed to do was complicate this further, after everything he had done so far to protect his best friend.

As Lamont finished with the third piece of tape, Worth's ribs began shaking. Lamont looked immediately to his friends face. A large, toothy smile was plastered where a smirk would usually be found.

"You are hilarious, Monty..."

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Chapter three~

-Jazz


	4. Reality Check

Haha here Ves. Fine. I'll fail History because of you.

Thanks Turtle 3 Never thought of that word either, but I suppose it does work.

No time jump.

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Lamont stared questioningly at his friend's laughing face.

"W-Worth…?" Lamont took a second to process what the hell was happening.

The man on the desk coughed out another laugh, and shot something between a smile and a smirk to the gaping black haired man standing over him.

"Shut yer mouth…hehe-" He coughed again, wincing in obvious pain.

_Okay, so he _was_ shot and dying…._ Lamont swallowed, collecting reality in his mind.

"Ya look like a fuckin' fish." Worth finished his sentence.

"So….What? You're fine? You're gonna live, then?" As Lamont took his worry and stress from his mind and body, it slowly formulated into annoyance at the blonde's care free consciousness.

"Hehe, yeah Monty. 'm fine" Worth went to prop himself up on his shoulders, but Lamont quickly slugged the bony shoulder, making the doctor fall back flat against the desk.

"Ow! Th' 'ell Lamont?" Worth coughed again, a little bit of blood sputtering onto his shirt.

"You had me worried sick!" Lamont's tone startled Worth, who resorted to adjusting himself accordingly to the larger man's blow.

"I thought I was gonna lose my best friend to a dumbass with a forty five!" Lamont continued, shaking.

"And all you can say is yer fine?" Lamont felt the prickling at his tear ducts again as Worth just watched.

Worth had no idea how to respond. He had been conscious ever since Lamont had started patching his chest up, but hadn't spoken up when the man had resorted to patching his friend up himself.

"….Monty." Worth finally addressed after Lamont had started streaming tears. He knew, even though Lamont his them, poorly though, by the shaking of his shoulders and in the way he shrugged his shoulders and covered his face with his left hand.

"Lamont." Worth swung his legs over the side, sitting on the thickly built desk. He winced, and ignored the slight burning in his chest. He knew that he should not sit up, but Worth believed that the well being of his friend was more important than a stray bullet floating around in his chest.

Lamont sniffed and wiped his tears away. "What?" His voice was cold.

"….I'm sorry." Worth sighed.

"What was the pause for?" Lamont questioned, wanting any sort of apology from the doctor to be sincere.

"What th' hell 'r you talkin about? I'm fuckin sorry! What more d'ya want from me?" Worth snapped

Silence fell over the room once again. Lamont and Worth just stared at each other, Lamont glared, pressing Worth against the empty air behind the doctor. They stayed like this until Worth doubled over, coughing blood up all over the carpet.

Worth had opened his mouth to say something, when he began coughing violently, and fell from his wooden perch. Lamont gave Worth a glance, but wasn't in the mood for a joke. Worth coughed again, this time with blood bubbling from his mouth. Lamont hurried to his friend's side, reverting back into the state of mind he had been in already for an hour. Something wasn't right.

"Worth? Worth what's wrong?" He tried, but the doc had resorted to hyperventilating, eyes half open.

"C-Ca…bre-" Worth gagged through his rapid breaths.

"Then shut up and focus on getting air!" Lamont snapped. Worth and landed on his side, for te first time clearly revealing his back. There was a large distinct crimson stain in the middle of the thin back. _An exit wound. The bullet went all the way through him!_

Lamont lifted Worth's shirt, much to the doctor's disapproval. "Worth, shaddup if ya want me to help you."

He didn't wait for an answer before he wiped the blood way from the back wound and taped it up. The air had been getting into the chest cavity, throwing the pressure off. One of Worth's lungs had been collapsing.

Except, Worth wasn't recovering. He wasn't even breathing anymore.

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Chapter four~

-Jazz


	5. Brotherly Love

Okay. Last chapter. You won't be able to bug me alter this one Ves ;D

Seeing as I'd be murdered if I deprived Veseal of the drama, there's no time interval.

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Lamont tried for a pulse. Okay, so he was alive. There was a slow, slight throb in Worth's neck beneath Lamont's fingers.

"Jesus Worth…What the fuck were you doing?" Lamont's temper was still heated, but his deep woven care for his friend out weighed his dislike for the man at the time.

"C'mon, wake up Worth…" He jostled his friend, but to no avail. Worth still laid motionless, not breathing. _Looks like health class did teach you useful stuff…. _Lamont noted sarcastically.

He pressed his friend's chest, forcing the air in his lungs out. He looked to Worth's face. "Shit Worth…"

He pressed his lips up against Worth's, forcing air back into the lungs. He pulled back, the taste of stale smoke on his mouth. He breathed again, finally earning a sputter from Worth. He pulled back quickly as Worth coughed, no blood coming from his mouth this time. Worth laid there breathing hard, catching his breath.

"Lamont…You.." He panted, voice hoarse. Lamont smiled, cuffing Worth lightly on the head, telling him to shut it until he could breath normally.

Worth caught his breath in another few seconds, and just smirked at Lamont.

"Ya coulda made it a little less intimate."

Lamont gawked, and even though knowing the humor in the statement, hit Worth on the head again. The two exchanged laughs, Worth repaying the other man the hit, catching Lamont's leg.

"Stop drinkin so many Buds then." Lamont teased back.

The two friends laughed, enjoying the other's company as always. They sat and spoke of what had happened; how Worth had found himself on the pavement, bleeding out, and how Lamont had carried his friend home. Worth laughed about how close he had been to death, the son of a bitch. Lamont listened, smiling, but truly worried about the blonde's grip on reality.

XXxxXX

They fell into silence, turning to gentle violence for words. They tired of this and sat in silence again for another fifteen minutes, listening to the sound of the rain which had returned. The morning light shone through the window, filling the room with a subtle gold through the clouds outside.  
"How'd ya know how t'patch me up yerself?" Worth broke the silence. Lamont and Worth were now leaning against to front of the wooden desk, Worth cross-legged and Lamont had his knees pulled up.

"I had a really good teacher back in college." Lamont shot Worth a smile. Worth just shot a rare smile back. Not his usual smirk. A smile Lamont was sure only he had seen in the past ten years from the man.

"Where's m'coat?" Worth asked, realizing the room was colder than usual. Lamont reached up to the top of the desk, pulling the white garment down. A jingle sounded above their heads. When they looked up, the source of the sound fell. I little dark cone. The bullet. They looked to each other, smiling.

"Shit."

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END~~

Okay, so I thought that was a good place to end this one. If anyone objects, there's something called a sequel. ;3

I hope you all enjoyed this prompt story, I know I enjoyed writing it.

Another fic finished.

-Jazz


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